


An Impactful Experience

by accidentallyonpurpose



Series: Lot in life [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Dom/sub, Fluff, Impact Play, M/M, Paddle, Riding Crops, Safe Sane and Consensual, Spanking, flogger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-24 02:55:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9696617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/accidentallyonpurpose/pseuds/accidentallyonpurpose
Summary: John and Sherlock try impact play for the first time in a non-punishment situation.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Yo I have had bad writer's block for this series, so sorry it's been so long. But here's another, and I think it turned out alright. Maybe I'll do a Mycroft/Greg version next. I don't have any practical experience with impact play so this is purely theoretical. Please do not use this as a template for anything and remember, safe, sane and consensual!

“John, I would like you to hit me.”  
John, who had been enjoying a rare quiet afternoon with a book, looked up at his partner. Sherlock was draped across the sofa, head hanging off one of the armrests.   
“Come again?”  
“You know I hate repeating myself.”  
“I think you can this time,” John said with a dry tone and an arched brow.   
“I said I want you to hit me,” Sherlock said with a put upon sigh.   
“Why?” Although they had done impact play, it had only ever been as punishment and only as a secondary to lectures and other non-violent punishments.   
“I’m curious,” Sherlock shrugged. “And bored. We both know that I enjoy pain to a certain extent, that’s evident from my reactions to any corporeal punishment I’ve experienced. I’d like to experiment and see how much and what kind I enjoy.”   
John took a moment to look over Sherlock before nodding. “Alright,” he agreed. “Into the bedroom with us, then.” John made sure the flat door was locked before he followed Sherlock into the bedroom. “Trousers and shirt off and into the hamper, please, but keep your pants on.”  
“Yes, John.” Sherlock complied.   
When he had finished he knelt beside the bed, watching John as he pulled out their box of toys. John put the box on the bed and started pulling out items. He laid a riding crop, a flogger, and a paddle out on the bed, as well as a set of leather cuffs. He left everything else in the box, but kept it on the bed in case they ended up using more.   
“Now as usual, we will use the traffic light system. If at any time you feel like you are in danger or in an unbearable amount of pain or you want to stop for any reason whatsoever, you say red. If you want me to slow down or pause, you say yellow. If you’re liking what’s happening, you use green.”  
“Yes, I know John, you say this every time,” Sherlock said with a slight roll of his eyes.   
“Did I ask for attitude?”  
“No, John,” Sherlock lowered his eyes but his lips quirked at the fond exasperation laced in John’s voice.   
“Good boy,” John praised, running a hand through Sherlock’s hair. “Now, I think we’ll start with a spanking, how does that sound?”  
“I am in your hands,” Sherlock said, reveling in the trust he had in John.   
“And God, am I grateful every day for it,” John said reverently, leaning down so he could kiss Sherlock gently on the lips. Sherlock melted into the kiss, humming happily. John pulled away after a moment.   
“Okay, up over my knee now,” John said, pulling away and sitting on the edge of the bed. “You’re not being punished, so you don’t need to count. Just enjoy it, love.”  
Sherlock sank his upper body into the bed, feet planted firmly on the ground. John let his hand rest on Sherlock’s lower back for a moment before bringing his hand back and letting it land with a sharp thwack. Sherlock wiggled a little as the light sting set in. John didn’t wait long before letting the next few land, dropping three in rapid succession. He paused for a moment, squeezing Sherlock’s ass and lightly rubbing it. Sherlock wondered when it would start feeling really good. He was intrigued by the way that his body reacted, and the light sting that was starting to permeate through his skin was nice, but overall he was feeling rather indifferent to this impact play.  
“How’s it feeling, love?”  
Sherlock propped his head on his hand and looked back at John.  
“It’s alright, I suppose. The tingle is nice, but it’s nothing significant.” Sherlock awkwardly shrugged one shoulder.   
John hummed in thought. “Not feeling anything extreme, then?”  
“Not really, no,” Sherlock said.  
“It’s just, the last time I spanked you, you cried.”  
Sherlock sighed and sat up. “Yes, but that was as punishment. When you do it as punishment, it’s got more… emotion to it? I’m not sure I’m explaining this well. Do you get what I’m saying?”  
“I think so, yeah. The reason it has more effect on you, spanking that is, is because when I do it you’re being punished, and need the emotional release, yeah?”  
“That’s about it.”  
“Would you like to try something different, then?”  
“Yes, please,” Sherlock stood, all grace and long limbs, and stood at the foot of the bed.  
“Shall we try the flogger next?”  
“Sure.”  
John walked over to the edge of the bed and picked up the flogger, running the leather straps against his hand before looking up at Sherlock.  
“Grip the bedrail, please,” he said, walking around to the foot of the bed. Sherlock followed, facing the bed and bending so that he was gripping the bedrail, slightly hunched over. “Good boy,” John soothed, running the flogger gently up and down Sherlock’s back. Sherlock took a moment to catalogue the feeling of the cool leather sliding against his skin, knowing it would be producing a very different sensation in a few moments.   
John pulled back his arm about halfway and let fly, giving Sherlock’s back a light slap with the flogger. It was by no means the hardest he could hit; he would start slow and work his way up to harder hits. He brought his arm back again, hitting Sherlock in a slightly different spot but at the same force. He laid a few more hits on Sherlock’s back, never hitting the same spot twice. Sherlock’s back was starting to turn a light shade of pink. Sherlock closed his eyes, cataloguing the feeling. He could feel the sting working it’s way under his skin, thin lines itching down towards his bones. It was interesting, and he could start to feel his brain adapting to the pain and coping with it, but he couldn’t quite feel himself sinking into the feeling. It was as if he was too busy thinking about it to truly enjoy it. Getting stuck inside his head, as usual.   
“Yellow,” he said around a sigh, standing and facing John. “I’m stuck in my head.”   
“Okay,” John said, putting the flogger down and cupping Sherlock’s face gently. “What’s on your mind?”  
“I’m too busy analyzing my reactions to truly enjoy them,” Sherlock admitted. “So instead of feeling it happen, I’m thinking about feeling it.”  
“Do you think that’s something that you’ll be able to get over, or should we pause here for the night?”  
Sherlock took it into consideration, but he knew that he wouldn’t stop now unless he was in an unmanageable amount of pain.   
“I’d like to keep trying.”  
“Okay,” John agreed after giving Sherlock a long, scrutinizing look. “But don’t be afraid to call a stop to everything.”  
“Yes John,” Sherlock said with a soft smile. John smiled and leaned up, kissing Sherlock again. He put one hand on the back of Sherlock’s neck and the other at his back, pulling Sherlock closer and digging the pads of his fingers into the light pink skin he found there. Sherlock moaned at the contact. “Yes, that’s good,” he said, pulling away after a few moments.   
“Of course it is,” John said with a cheeky grin, smacking Sherlock on the bum. “Now, hands back on the bedrail, please.” Sherlock turned and complied, closing his eyes once more and bracing for the impact. John picked up the flogger once more, swinging his arm back and forth before bringing it down with a loud CRACK on Sherlock’s back. Sherlock jerked from the unexpected force but felt a thrill go up his spine at the contact. Another strong impact landed, and Sherlock shivered at the goosebumps that travelled up his spine. It was like the shockwaves from the strong impact were going straight through his nerves and to his brain, making it shiver on impact.   
John saw the way Sherlock was reacting and grinned, laying five harder whacks on Sherlock’s back.   
“How does that feel, love?”  
“Good,” Sherlock sighed. Although he wasn’t quite in subspace yet, he could feel his brain slowing and detaching. “Not quite there yet.”  
“How would you feel about me trying the crop?”  
“Very good,” Sherlock responded, adjusting his grip on the bedrail. He arched his back a little, reveling in the light pull he felt there.  
“You’re like a giant bloody cat,” John said appreciatively, running his hand down Sherlock’s back before grabbing the riding crop. “We’ll try a few hits. Not too many, mind, since this is our first time.”  
“Okay,” Sherlock agreed. John didn’t waste time, pulling back and hitting Sherlock on the back sharply. Sherlock sucked in a breath and let it out on a sharp exhale. “More. Please.” Sherlock ground out impatiently. John chuckled before hitting Sherlock four times in rapid succession. He made sure never to land in the same spot twice, but to evenly space out the hits. Sherlock was starting to slip into subspace, the sharp hits stinging and prompting him to simultaneously focus on the pain and let himself float in the heat on his back. His mind was going fuzzy, the onslaught blurring into one pleasantly stingy sensation. Previously he had thought that only pure pleasure would get him into true subspace, but this combination of light to moderate pain and the trust he placed in John turned the pain into a warm sort of pleasure that seeped into Sherlock’s bones. He barely noticed when John paused and then stopped hitting him with the riding crop.   
“Sherlock, what’s your colour?”  
“Ga-reen,” Sherlock said, breaking the word up into two syllables. “Very, very green.”  
“Okay,” John said, chuckling. “I’m going to try the paddle now. Ready?”  
“Yes,” Sherlock said, eyes closed to maximize the sensation dancing across his back.  
John placed his hand on Sherlock’s warm lower back, rubbing lightly as he reared back and let the paddle land on Sherlock’s ass. Sherlock rocked forward with the impact and moaned low in his throat at the deep ache that took a moment to sink into his skin. John hit him another two times with the paddle before pausing.   
“Still doing alright, love?”  
“Mmm hmm,” Sherlock hummed. “Green.”   
John rubbed his hand up and down Sherlock’s back once before giving him another five hits with the paddle. Sherlock wiggled and writhed as the deep ache sunk deeper into his bones. He took a deep breath and let it out shakily, floating gently inside his own head. He could feel his muscles trying to relax all at once as the assault on his ass stopped.   
John put down the paddle and grabbed Sherlock around the waist, catching him as his knees gave out. “Sherlock?” he asked alarmed.  
“Mmm, yes?” Sherlock mumbled, face half buried in the bed he was awkwardly bent over.   
“Can you stand for me, love?”  
Sherlock groaned but complied, standing up groggily. John walked him over to the side of the bed and laid him down on his front.   
“How are you feeling?”  
“Floaty,” Sherlock breathed, smiling dopily at John.   
“Good,” John said. “I’m going to put the box away and I’ll be right back, alright?”  
Sherlock just hummed and readjusted his arms so that they were cushioning his head. John quickly tidied up, putting the box away and stripping down to his pants. He made a quick stop to the bathroom to collect some cooling cream from the cabinet there and moved back into the bedroom. He sat on the edge of the bed beside Sherlock and reached out, running his hand once more down Sherlock’s back, ending at the dip between his back and butt. His back was already significantly less red.   
“Still feeling good, love?”  
“Yeah. Wanna cuddle,” he slurred, looking blearily up at John.  
“In a moment, love. I’m just going to put some cream on you.” He grabbed a dollop of cream and smeared it along Sherlock’s back, making sure to work it into every inch. Then, he slid Sherlock’s pants down and rubbed cream into his red cheeks. Sherlock shivered at the cold cream but otherwise stayed still. When he was done, John put the cream on the bedside table and slid down so that Sherlock was laying half on top of him, arms snaked around his chest.   
“Not too bad for our first time, yeah?” John asked, laying a kiss on top of Sherlock’s head.  
“A success,” Sherlock agreed, eyes already closed. “Can we have a blanket?”  
“Of course,” John chuckled, awkwardly shifting them both around so that he could get the blanket out from under them and maneuver it so that it was draped on top of them. “Better?” he asked when he was done.  
“Yes.” Sherlock sighed and nuzzled deeper into John’s chest, breath evening out. John followed him to sleep soon after.


End file.
